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fic: Mad World (Remus/Sirius)
Title: Mad World
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wook77
Pairing: Implied Remus/Sirius
Rating: G
Warnings:
Wordcount: 1280
Summary: Sirius's favourite dreams are the ones in which he dies.
Author's Notes: Many thanks towhy_me_why_not for wrangling my commas and giving this a bit of polish. Title and summary inspired by the song 'Mad World' as sung by Gary Jules.
Padfoot twitches in his sleep, legs churning after he chases after a stick. A ball. His master.
The ball squeaks as he bites down on it, the noise a perfect thanks to the gods for the absolute joy of this moment. He refuses to give it up even as his master chases after him, calling his name, "Padfoot! Come on, mate, I know you can hear me! Get back here!" as they play in the park. The people around them watch, some glaring at the audacity of a dog off a leash and others smiling and laughing at his antics.
"Padfoot! I said come here, now! Get back here!"
Padfoot turns, grins with the ball in his mouth, and then takes off to another part of the park. This is a new part, one they'd not played in before, and Padfoot wonders if he'd be able to bury the ball, hide it away so no one can ever take it from him and he'll have this moment of happiness forever.
There's a beautiful woman on a bench that grins and claps as his master chases after him and he runs, the grass warm on his paws while the watery sunlight of London beams down on them. In a moment of uncanny logic for a dog, he rushes over, taking the time to turn his head and bark around the ball in a clear entreaty for his master to catch up already. With his most charming grin, he sits and drops the ball at the woman's feet. Cocking his head to the side, he contemplates her, watches her as she reaches down and grabs the bright, red ball. She hefts it in her hand, tossing it up in the air and then catching it, uncaring about the drool and slobber that he's put all over it. Maybe, just maybe, she'll be good enough for his person.
"So sorry about that. I don't know what got into him," his master says as he pats Padfoot on his head. He sits down next to the woman on the bench and Padfoot sees everything in the smile she turns on his master - Oh Remus, you deserve happiness and I don't think that's possible with me - and Padfoot knows it's time for him to be free. She can love him like he deserves. Before his master can react, he takes off, turning into the forest and the bright sunshine that surrounds him as his master yells after him, "Sirius! Don't leave me!"
The guards are late on their rounds, meaning that Sirius can't sleep as Padfoot. He hates nights like these. He always dreams and the Dementors always feed.
Sirius lives for moments like these, the exhilaration of a fight, knowing that he's better than his enemies. He's the best. There's nothing else to it. He can't help laughing as he tosses curse after jinx after hex after curse. He's in his element. This is what he's made for.
Turning to the side, he grins at the boy next to him - boy? What boy? Where did he come from? Who is he? Where is he? - and then winks at the lad before casting another hex at his crazy cousin and her husband.
"Moony!" he shouts as he catches sight of Remus battling with Lucius Malfoy. "It's a great day, isn't it?"
Moony turns and grins at him, love coming through even in the midst of battle fever. Green light surrounds both of them.
The dog curls in on itself. Its fur only helps so much and the blankets are threadbare and needed to bar the cold from seeping up through the stone floor. It shivers and sniffles as it pushes its nose further into its belly.
The beach is a perfect place for Padfoot to go haring off after his master. His master isn't feeling well but that's all right with Padfoot. He slows his pace to make it look like he's struggling to keep up, to give a good chase when he knows that, with one burst of speed, he can easily catch his master, tackle him to the ground and lick his face until he cries out and hugs Padfoot Remus, please.
Upon further thought (which only lasts a moment because Padfoot is always a creature of impulse just like the man he is), he puts on that burst of speed and tackles his master, twisting them both so that his master lands on his back and Padfoot stands over him. He licks and licks, leaving long, slimy trails of slobber all of his master's scarred face. His master tries to fend him off, pushes at him half-heartedly but Padfoot knows that his master loves this and so he keeps going until he feels his master's arms around him. oh Merlin, Remus, I need you, please.
"Fancy seeing you here." He hears someone say and when he twists his head in the embrace Remus is touching him, he's touching him, he's there and it's warm and he's there, he sees the woman from the bench, her contagious smile beaming over her face.
"Do I know you?" his master asks while Sirius snarls at the woman. He's not ready for this to end.
"It's time," she says as she looks at him. He snarls more, baring his teeth.
"Padfoot!" his master chastises him but he hasn't a clue what's going on, what the woman wants from Sirius Padfoot.
"I'm sorry," she says as her hair shifts from purple to brown. She reaches out a hand and he snaps at it, trying to bite it. His master shoves him away from the woman and, finally accepting the inevitable, he runs down the beach, the sun and sand disappearing as he climbs into the mountains. The cold numbs the bewilderment.
His cousin is screaming. Again.
"Look at this," he says to the teenager standing in front of him. "Blasted right off the wall."
"Your family – "
Sirius interrupts, "Uncle Algie was always a good man. He's blasted off too, you see?" He fingers the burn, rubbing across it and tracing the outline.
"Your brother – " the boy starts to speak again and Sirius interrupts him again.
"Dinner. You don't want to miss it." He walks down the stairs and towards the front door. Remus reaches a hand out to him and he smiles, shakes his head, then walks straight out the door and into a double-decker bus.
He's going mad. He's lost all track of time. He's got to remember, got to punish that fucking little rat. Got to show the world he's innocent. Got to show Remus he's innocent.
The fire barely burns, sputtering as if it were dying and, considering he's missing his wand, it's not something that he can afford to have happen. It's too cold for either Padfoot or Sirius. He puts a log on the fire, though it's more of a stick. At least it's dry wood. He'd already learned the hard way that wet would only put the fire out faster.
The castle looms just beyond the treetops. It's beautiful and it has too many memories. Why's he here, anyway? What does he think he's going to accomplish? Who does he think he is, anyway?
At least he's free. He can run through the woods, cavort and play with the deer. Avoid the centaurs. Play with the Ford Anglia. He's free.
And he's Sirius Fucking Black. That's who he is. He's free and he's Sirius Fucking Black. With a snarl, the sound more canine than possible for a human mouth to make, he switches into Padfoot and takes off into the trees. Running with the wind, he's free.
As always, I'd love to hear what you thought.
Author:
wook77Pairing: Implied Remus/Sirius
Rating: G
Warnings:
Wordcount: 1280
Summary: Sirius's favourite dreams are the ones in which he dies.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to
why_me_why_not for wrangling my commas and giving this a bit of polish. Title and summary inspired by the song 'Mad World' as sung by Gary Jules. Padfoot twitches in his sleep, legs churning after he chases after a stick. A ball. His master.
The ball squeaks as he bites down on it, the noise a perfect thanks to the gods for the absolute joy of this moment. He refuses to give it up even as his master chases after him, calling his name, "Padfoot! Come on, mate, I know you can hear me! Get back here!" as they play in the park. The people around them watch, some glaring at the audacity of a dog off a leash and others smiling and laughing at his antics.
"Padfoot! I said come here, now! Get back here!"
Padfoot turns, grins with the ball in his mouth, and then takes off to another part of the park. This is a new part, one they'd not played in before, and Padfoot wonders if he'd be able to bury the ball, hide it away so no one can ever take it from him and he'll have this moment of happiness forever.
There's a beautiful woman on a bench that grins and claps as his master chases after him and he runs, the grass warm on his paws while the watery sunlight of London beams down on them. In a moment of uncanny logic for a dog, he rushes over, taking the time to turn his head and bark around the ball in a clear entreaty for his master to catch up already. With his most charming grin, he sits and drops the ball at the woman's feet. Cocking his head to the side, he contemplates her, watches her as she reaches down and grabs the bright, red ball. She hefts it in her hand, tossing it up in the air and then catching it, uncaring about the drool and slobber that he's put all over it. Maybe, just maybe, she'll be good enough for his person.
"So sorry about that. I don't know what got into him," his master says as he pats Padfoot on his head. He sits down next to the woman on the bench and Padfoot sees everything in the smile she turns on his master - Oh Remus, you deserve happiness and I don't think that's possible with me - and Padfoot knows it's time for him to be free. She can love him like he deserves. Before his master can react, he takes off, turning into the forest and the bright sunshine that surrounds him as his master yells after him, "Sirius! Don't leave me!"
The guards are late on their rounds, meaning that Sirius can't sleep as Padfoot. He hates nights like these. He always dreams and the Dementors always feed.
Sirius lives for moments like these, the exhilaration of a fight, knowing that he's better than his enemies. He's the best. There's nothing else to it. He can't help laughing as he tosses curse after jinx after hex after curse. He's in his element. This is what he's made for.
Turning to the side, he grins at the boy next to him - boy? What boy? Where did he come from? Who is he? Where is he? - and then winks at the lad before casting another hex at his crazy cousin and her husband.
"Moony!" he shouts as he catches sight of Remus battling with Lucius Malfoy. "It's a great day, isn't it?"
Moony turns and grins at him, love coming through even in the midst of battle fever. Green light surrounds both of them.
The dog curls in on itself. Its fur only helps so much and the blankets are threadbare and needed to bar the cold from seeping up through the stone floor. It shivers and sniffles as it pushes its nose further into its belly.
The beach is a perfect place for Padfoot to go haring off after his master. His master isn't feeling well but that's all right with Padfoot. He slows his pace to make it look like he's struggling to keep up, to give a good chase when he knows that, with one burst of speed, he can easily catch his master, tackle him to the ground and lick his face until he cries out and hugs Padfoot Remus, please.
Upon further thought (which only lasts a moment because Padfoot is always a creature of impulse just like the man he is), he puts on that burst of speed and tackles his master, twisting them both so that his master lands on his back and Padfoot stands over him. He licks and licks, leaving long, slimy trails of slobber all of his master's scarred face. His master tries to fend him off, pushes at him half-heartedly but Padfoot knows that his master loves this and so he keeps going until he feels his master's arms around him. oh Merlin, Remus, I need you, please.
"Fancy seeing you here." He hears someone say and when he twists his head in the embrace Remus is touching him, he's touching him, he's there and it's warm and he's there, he sees the woman from the bench, her contagious smile beaming over her face.
"Do I know you?" his master asks while Sirius snarls at the woman. He's not ready for this to end.
"It's time," she says as she looks at him. He snarls more, baring his teeth.
"Padfoot!" his master chastises him but he hasn't a clue what's going on, what the woman wants from Sirius Padfoot.
"I'm sorry," she says as her hair shifts from purple to brown. She reaches out a hand and he snaps at it, trying to bite it. His master shoves him away from the woman and, finally accepting the inevitable, he runs down the beach, the sun and sand disappearing as he climbs into the mountains. The cold numbs the bewilderment.
His cousin is screaming. Again.
"Look at this," he says to the teenager standing in front of him. "Blasted right off the wall."
"Your family – "
Sirius interrupts, "Uncle Algie was always a good man. He's blasted off too, you see?" He fingers the burn, rubbing across it and tracing the outline.
"Your brother – " the boy starts to speak again and Sirius interrupts him again.
"Dinner. You don't want to miss it." He walks down the stairs and towards the front door. Remus reaches a hand out to him and he smiles, shakes his head, then walks straight out the door and into a double-decker bus.
He's going mad. He's lost all track of time. He's got to remember, got to punish that fucking little rat. Got to show the world he's innocent. Got to show Remus he's innocent.
The fire barely burns, sputtering as if it were dying and, considering he's missing his wand, it's not something that he can afford to have happen. It's too cold for either Padfoot or Sirius. He puts a log on the fire, though it's more of a stick. At least it's dry wood. He'd already learned the hard way that wet would only put the fire out faster.
The castle looms just beyond the treetops. It's beautiful and it has too many memories. Why's he here, anyway? What does he think he's going to accomplish? Who does he think he is, anyway?
At least he's free. He can run through the woods, cavort and play with the deer. Avoid the centaurs. Play with the Ford Anglia. He's free.
And he's Sirius Fucking Black. That's who he is. He's free and he's Sirius Fucking Black. With a snarl, the sound more canine than possible for a human mouth to make, he switches into Padfoot and takes off into the trees. Running with the wind, he's free.
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